Companion's Choice
by demon jaguar
Summary: In the world of Valdemar, Heralds are loved, respected and admired. Everyone wants to be Chosen. But what happens to the woman Chosen—who doesn't want to be a Herald?
1. The Questions Begin

Heralds are supposed to be glorified, elite creatures. Every child wants to be one, every adult envying their position. But what happens to a woman Chosen—who doesn't want to be a Herald?

And so I bring you, Companion's Choice.

Herald Jaydn was frustrated.

The meeting had _not_ gone well. Despite the rumors of wars on many edges of Valdemar, the Heralds, much to his and their dismay, were being stuck far from the places they were needed most, except for a few holds where the Lords had insisted on their presence. And as no one but the Queen seemed to care, there was very little he could do to convince the rest of the Council to assign them to more important places. As training Queen's Own, its was infuriating to see the young Queen Shaunah overwhelmed by the startlingly persuasive arguments.

Jaydn complained to his senior Herald and friend Kuviay as they strolled across the Companion's Field after the Council, running a hand habitually through his shaggy blonde hair that fell messily before deep brown eyes. "It's not fair!" he growled, kicking at a loose stone in his path, not bothering to look up at the older ad taller Herald. "The Lords, most of them, and the rest of the Council, are insisting that our positions at the border-wars be replaced by the regular army. As if they could do half as well as us! Don't they trust us, or the Companions?"

Kuviay listened patiently, though he felt as strongly on the matter, as his serious gray eyes and the grim expression on his square-jawed face attested to.. But he wasn't surprised, if he was dismayed. He had watched the Heralds slowly lose their august position over the last few years. "Who was leading the arguments against us?" he asked, though he knew who to expect.

Jaydn took a moment to recall. "Lord Taren...Shalhan...and Darkal."

Kuviay nodded. All three were Lords of border Fort-Holds, far from the regular Herald circuit. They rarely saw anyone in Whites except in Court, and thus, none had a particular respect for the Companions or their Chosen. But one was missing from the list he had guessed.

"Oh, and Lady—er, Lord Cayri."

There was the one. Kuviay had watched Cayri—the only reigning lady, who insisted on being called "Lord" Cayri, so as to convince others that she was a ruling Holder, and no one's consort—work with a particular single-mindedness against the Heralds since she had come to power holding Sancta Fort-Hold. Sancta was also outside the Herald's circuit, far to the north of Haven and set deep within a thick forest, though it was large enough to merit a stop. Indeed, until recently by Kuviay's standards, it had been on the Herald's trail—but no more.

"She's always hated the Heralds," Kuviay commented, scratching his head beneath his cropped boy's-cut brown hair.

"Why?" Jaydn demanded. "What have we ever done to her or her kin?"

Kuviay shook his head. "Nobody knows why. She just hates us. Did you know Sancta used to be on the circuit?"

Jaydn was surprised. "Why isn't it anymore? Travel difficulties?"

Kuviay smiled thinly. "No. It was removed upon request just after her husband, Lord Courem, died, seven years ago." He fell silent, considering how to relate the tale, then began.


	2. Kuviay's Memory

Kuviay had been watching alongside the palace guard that evening. He hadn't been a young Herald, even seven years ago, and the work made him and his Companion, Korath, feel useful. That night he watched a rider, one of a Hold Guard, approach rapidly, a worried look on his chiseled face. When the Guard reached the gates, Kuviay had been handed a sealed scroll. The seal was of Sancta.

"Message for His Highness King Shathir," the Guard had said. "You'd better take it to him, Herald." Kuviay frowned, but the Guard had already turned his horse. "I'd best find an inn for the night. I needs be off in the morning; these cities make me nervous." With that, he was off again, as quickly as he had come.

Wary, Kuviay cracked the seal and opened the scroll. He quickly read it through—it was a very short message—then read it again, slowly. Only the third time he read did he understand. His mouth went suddenly very dry. He rerolled the message and dashed into the palace, running straight to the throne room, where he knew Shathir would be for a good while more.

Thankfully, Shathir had no audiences at the moment. Kuviay strode towards Valdemar's King and King's Own, who looked rather surprised at his presence.

"Message from Sancta Fort-Hold," he announced breathlessly, voice cracking. Shathir nodded, waiting; the King's Own, Alari, looked dubious, but said nothing. Kuviay proceeded to real aloud the letter.

Addressed to His Majesty Herald-King Shathir:

Those of the Companion's Order are no longer welcome at Fort-Hold Sancta.

Trespassers will be treated as bandits.

The Seal of Sancta and of Lord Cayri

Kuviay finished grimly and waited for Shathir's reaction. But Alari spoke first.

"Can she _do_ that?"

Shathir sighed, looking resigned, but both Kuviay and Alari knew he was furious. "No. Technically. That would be treason." Both caught the "but" hanging in the air.

"But?" Kuviay prompted.

"But Sancta is isolated enough, surrounded by forest and mountains and plagued by bitter cold, that there's no way we can arrest Cayri. It's a Fort-Hold. If she doesn't choose to come out, only the entire Valdemaran army under the will of the gods could get her out. I can't do that." They could tell that Shathir was no happier about it than they were. "And besides, Sancta is a border fort. The only Lord-heirs are nine and seven years old. We cannot remove such a strategically placed fort of their leader. They follow her, and they follow none other unless they are of the Lord bloodline."

"So we can do nothing." Kuviay's voice was flat.

"We can do nothing," Shathir confirmed sadly.

"Do something anyway," Alari snapped. "We can't just let her get away with this unchallenged. Fetch Herald Athyar, he's our best diplomat and no mean hand at the sword, either."

Shathir looked hesitant, but he eventually heeded the King's Own.

It was a few weeks later when they received their answer. There was no sign of the messenger—but outside the palace doors at dawn, the empty-eyed head of Herald Athyar, the seal of Sancta branded into his forehead, and a lock of silver-white horsehair braided into his hair.


	3. Interlude

A sort of interlude between interesting parts. Just be patient, explanations are on their way!

Jaydn was silent. Speechless. They had reached the far edge of the Companion's Field by the time he spoke at last.

"How can she _do_ that?" he demanded furiously as they sat on the fence. "How can anyone hate the Heralds so much?"

Kuviay sighed. "She always has, as far as I'm aware. The late Lord Courem never liked us much, either, though his dislike increased soon before he wed Cayri." He paused thoughtfully. "Not two years after, he died. Everyone believes he was killed, poisoned, which is why it's strange that Cayri has as much power in Court that she does. Apparently she's convinced some of her innocence in his death, though I for one don't believe a word of it." Jaydn didn't have difficulty believing it either.

"She sounds pretty power-hungry, if she's willing to kill her husband and profane the Heralds' name," he observed.

They were interrupted by the sudden and unexpected appearance of another Herald. Josef was between Kuviay and Jaydn in age, but surpassed both, as well as almost all of the male Heralds, in looks. He was a particular favorite of the ladies, and even some of the men, what with sun-darkened skin, shaggy crow's-wing hair, and deep, dark eyes. But he'd always been very quiet, and spoke little unless he had something important to say.

"Are you speaking of Lord Cayri?" he asked bluntly. He had a thick accent, Jaydn noted.

"Actually, yes," Kuviay answered. "Would you like to join us in the Heraldic gossip?"

Josef didn't laugh at the intended joke, but he nodded and climbed on to the fence next to Kuviay. "The Lord Cayri has always baffled me," he said slowly.

"She hates Heralds," Jaydn blurted out. "She's evil!"

Josef considered the thought for a moment, though Kuviay quickly agreed. "I do not think she is evil," he said at last "But I will not say either that she is free of corruption."

"She _did_ kill Herald Athyar and her own husband, not to mention who knows who else," Kuviay felt compelled to point out.

"But the people of Sancta follow her as the follow no other, and the Hold perishes not," Josef replied. "There are many tales to tell of Cayri, strange tales of a strange Hold." He paused for a long time.

"Do you have a tale of Cayri, Josef?" Jaydn asked finally.

He nodded. "I will tell it, if I may."


	4. Josef's Memory

Hmmm, this story has a lot of memories involved. And there's going to be more. At least one more. This is from Josef's point of view. Designed to be sufficiently confusing. All will be explained in later chapters.

Josef was on his training circuit, ten years ago, with Senior Herald Reyor. A few days ago, they had entered the forest that surrounded the northern Fort-Hold Sancta. Rumors claimed that the Forest was haunted. There was little proof of that, but after a few days, Reyor devoutly believed—his people had a tradition of superstition—and Josef himself was not so sure that the rumors were false, himself. But that day they were to reach the Hold—Reyor predicted that the Heralds would see Fort walls at about dusk.

The day, thus far, had been relatively uneventful. Josef had fallen into a sleepy stupor as he rode, and his Companion Lika offered no conversation. He rode in front of Reyor, the noon sun comfortably warm for a midautumn day.

His doze was interrupted by a sudden snarl ahead of Lika. Josef immediately jerked awake, and Lika's ears snapped up as she halted. Reyor, behind them, became alert quickly.

_:A wolf, perhaps,:_ Lika mused, unafraid.

_:If it is a wolf, it will likely not attack,:_ Josef guessed hopefully.

_Wild dog, maybe,:_ Lika continued.

At that exact moment, a small but furious creature leapt from the undergrowth, aiming for Josef's chest. It was indeed a wild dog, slightly smaller than a wolf, cloud-gray, and it clawed and bit Josef enragedly. The Herald yelled and threw the dog off. Lika took off, Reyor close behind.

Josef was unnerved, to say the least. He didn't notice, however, the slashes and spreading blood on his Whites until Reyor pointed them out. The cuts weren't deep, though they bled profusely, but there wasn't much he could do about them yet, so he ignored them. He could deal with it later when they were settled down at the Hold.

Dusk was falling a few hours later, and Josef was sure they would reach Sancta soon. Both he and Reyor sat alert in their saddles, watching for anything of interest. They had already passed a few guard towers, and been acknowledged with a friendly shout.

Lika was stepping carefully through the thick undergrowth that spread unchecked across the forest floor and unkept road, just as Josef heard a rustle of leaves to his left. He ignored it at first, assuming it was a squirrel or some such. But Lika paused as the rustle repeated, though they could see nothing through the undergrowth and heavy bush, and Josef thought he heard a low moan. He peered curiously into the vegetation.

"Move on, move on," Reyor said impatiently as he and his Companion halted behind them. "There's nothing there, and we're almost to Sancta."

Josef wasn't so sure. He kept watching where he guessed the source of the noise had been, and Lika looked as well. But he saw nothing. After a minute, Lika turned away and walked on.

At the same time, Josef suddenly felt an onslaught of negative emotions, the cause of which he couldn't begin to guess at: fear, despair, anguish, guilt, fury. He could see that the others were experiencing it, too.

"Let's get out of here," Reyor barked nervously. The Companions agreed, and they didn't slow their pace until Fort walls were in sight, and the emotions had faded.

They were quickly met, upon their entrance, by a messenger sent to greet. He told them where their rooms would be, where the stalls for the Companions were, explained a few of the customs particular to Sancta, and told them that Lord Courem would be expecting to see them that night.

Reyor and Josef quickly stabled the Companions and gave them a decent rubdown, but before they had time to retire to their own beds, they were approached by another messenger. There had been a change of plans: Lord Courem wanted to see them immediately.

The two Heralds hurried up the many spiral staircases to where they had been told Courem was, panting heavily by the end. A door guard alerted Courem to their presence as the entered. Josef stepped inside just as the man standing next to Courem said, "—Except the Heralds."

It took Josef very little time to glance around the room. Lord Courem, normally light-skinned anyways, was very pale indeed, especially against his cropped black hair and dark eyes. Next to him was the man who had spoken, a breathless guard by all appearances; and in Courem's arms he could see Lady Cayri's figure and tumbling auburn curls.

Courem said nothing for a long, tense moment, only looked from the Heralds to the guard and back again. Then his gaze fell and stayed on Josef. The Herald opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted. Courem took two strides toward the Heralds, leaving Cayri with the guard, his face suddenly enraged and disgusted.

"Get out of my Hold!" Courem shouted. Josef was so surprised by this, he turned to make sure that the furious order had in fact been directed at him. It was.

"What—" Reyor began, baffled, but he was cut off by Courem's unheeding, and seemingly uncalled-for, rage.

"Get out of my Hold!" Sancta's Lord yelled again. "You filthy bastards! You sick perverts! Get out of my Hold!"

Reyor was angry now as well, not to mention utterly bewildered. "What have we done against Sancta?" he demanded hotly.

"Guards!" Courem roared. Immediately several burly men appeared fro the sides of the room to escort the Heralds from Sancta's premises. Josef and Reyor hurried out by themselves.


	5. An Incident At Court

Hey, this one's rather long, actually. But that's just because I couldn't find a very good cutoof point. Oh well. Next chapter is where interesting things start to happen. Although this is cool as well.

Jaydn and Kuviay were shocked. "You _left_?" Jaydn asked incredulously.

Josef looked affronted. "What would you have done?"

"What did Shathir do?" Kuviay wondered.

Josef sighed. "He sent a messenger to Sancta, questioning the cause of our expulsion. The reply said only that Courem had much evidence that we had committed a heinous crime against Sancta Hold. I have heard nothing since, but from that point on, Sancta has given no respect to the Heralds. Our position has gone downhill from there, as you are both aware of."

"So it all started with Courem," Kuviay muttered. "Then why did Cayri kill her husband?"

"I've never heard that there were any strong feelings between them," Josef remarked. "It was, after all, an arranged marriage."

"So, a power struggle," Jaydn guessed. "A Hold that big, it couldn't be solely that she disliked the man." He glanced at the purple sky. "I'd better get to Court." He hopped off the fence and hurried off, and Kuviay and Josef went their separate ways.

Jaydn was dwelling on that strange conversation that evening. There was so much to wonder about, so many questions left unanswered... questions that if he could find the answer to them, it might prove crucial in uncovering the reasons behind Cayri's hatred of Heralds, which was the first step to fixing the problem, since it was obvious that Cayri would not be put out of her position as Lord Holder. Questions like, what on earth had gone on that night of Josef's visit, that cryptic rejection with no explanation and no word about it since? Why was it that the first action of Cayri as Lord Holder, when they had barely received the news of Courem's death here in Haven, was to ban Heralds from Sancta, and, efficiently, the smaller northern holds, since they lay close to Sancta Forest. Why was it that her hatred was so great of the Heralds, and the Companions, that she would be willing to kill, or at least order the deaths of, a pair? And the most important question was simply, why? Why this furious hatred?

"Jaydn!"

Queen Shaunah's voice called him back to reality. "What?"

She asked him some boring question about a duke or a baron who had previously addressed her; Jaydn responded with a glib, uninformative answer, as his mind wandered far from the usual Court functions of the evening.

No, his thoughts remained on a slender, redhaired woman dancing before his seat next to Shaunah's throne, clad like any lady in a white silk gown, white owl feathers woven into the hair that spilled across her shoulders like a tumultuous waterfall. She danced with feline grace across the floor, stepping smoothly in time with her various partners. Jaydn had always seen Cayri downplaying her appearance to avoid the undue attentions of those she worked with—wearing men's breeches and shirts, like many Heralds, and keeping her hair tightly braided, though curling wisps always escaped. But this night at Court, she was transformed.

The other ladies in attendance were unimpressed. Several times during the night, Jaydn noticed that as Cayri passed them, women whispered nasty insults. Their partners never heeded, but it was impossible for Cayri to ignore them, and she accepted the vicious slurs and suggestions with a polite but thin smile.

But something else happened that put these observations as less than paramount concerns in Jaydn's mind. Cayri was dancing right in front of the throne, closer to him than anyone else, and he glimpsed for what was perhaps half a second a glimmer of her true feelings about tonight—she hated coming to Court, and regretted it. Then the mask resumed, but he did not forget. But suddenly, another pair brushed by—a woman's foot stuck out in exactly the right place—and Cayri, carried in a sudden momentous sweep by her partner, was sent sprawling to the floor.

Shaunah jumped up a bit after Jaydn did. It appeared that no one else had seen what Jaydn had—everyone knew only that one moment all was well, and the next moment, Cayri was on the ground. Jaydn found himself moving quickly to her side, a sudden empathy come of that half-second when she had let go her masks.

Cayri was frighteningly pale, much whiter than her usual fair complexion; her red hair was morbidly bright against skin and dress, reminding one of spilled blood on snow. She seemed to be short of breath, and was certainly in pain.

"What happened?" Shaunah asked, unnerved by the suddennes of the event. Jaydn was only surprised that tonight had been the night where something had actually happened; the very night when a desire for the truth had been seeded in his own mind.

_:This is the night of change. Secrets shall become clear and truths shall be made plain. Questions will be answered. Wait.:_

An unbidden voice in Jaydn's mind, the voice of a Companion that he did not know. It was clear that no one else had heard it, for none of the aristocrats and Court viewers gathered round had Mindspeech, and though Cayri did, she was in obviously too much pain to pay attention to anything, and Shaunah had never been good at controlling her expression. He was the only one who had heard it. He knew it, somehow, to be a Companion's voice, but not the voice of his own Tuviel, nor of any he recognized. It had a strange quality about it, almost a sense of _others_ as some had described the Grove-born. Who the owner of the voice was, Jaydn could not say, nor tell the meaning of its message. This is the night of change. Questions will be answered. Jaydn could only hope that it meant his own questions.

"Get a Healer!" Shaunah cried, oblivious to her Queen's Own's confusion.

"No!" Cayri cried before someone had the chance to dash off. "No—no Healer. Just—just get me—back to where I'm staying." Her pain must have been very great, perhaps more than the fall had warranted. Her control, tempered steel under the worst circumstances, was fading and faltering, laying her pain bare for the world to see. Shaunah percieved this as well as Jaydn did, and wondered aloud at her refusal.

"You endure so much pain and yet deny a Healer?"

Cayri gritted her teeth and brought herself back under grips. Perhaps, Jaydn thought, there had been more going on here tonight than just a physical fall. Tonight is the night of change, he said. The past is going to have to come to terms with the present. Maybe she knows it. What in her past could have tortured her so much this night?

"The pain is nothing," she said after a moment, her voice steadier. "I would hate to disconvenience your Healers. Just allow me to return to my guest quarters."

Shaunah looked like she wanted to refute, but Jaydn stepped in before she had a chance to. Tonight was the night of change, the voice had said, and there was no way he was going to miss it. It never once occurred to him to doubt the voice. Once the comparison to Grove-born had been made, the words seemed absolute, their statements utter truth.

"Allow me to assist you," he said calmly, stepping up to Cayri and assisting her upright, with much tight-lipped control on her part. For her sake, Jaydn pretended not to notice how tightly and heavily she clung to his arm. _:Kuviay,:_ he Mindcalled. He knew that his old friend would want a part of this. He as well had questions. And one other. _:Josef. Meet me in the Companion's Field. Don't wait for me there; follow me after I pass. You would do well to stay out of sight for a while.:_ He shut off the link, preventing questions from either of them. He knew that they would not refuse his request.


	6. The Companions' Choice

Woo! Next chapter of Companion's Choice! Another longish one. Are you all by now confused? The next chapter or so should start to explain things. Maybe. Perhaps I'll put it off even more. But another memory is coming up, I promise.

The two set out towards Cayri's guest quarters. The shortest route to the apartments was across the Companion's Field, since by now there was not enough room in the Palace for visitors as rare as Cayri. But when Jaydn led the way towards the Field, she started to struggle, obviously reluctant to cross.

"The shortest way is across the Companion's Field," he told her matter-of-factly.

"But I—you don't—we can go around, though," she suggested futilely. Apparently her hatred of Herald extended to a fear of the Companions. However, Jaydn was not going to let her get away with that.

"No," he disagreed, "I think it's best to get you back as quickly as possible." Cayri could find no reasonable argument to the longer route, not with Jaydn as a full Herald, and so the two set off across the Companion's Field, Cayri clutching tightly at Jaydn's arm as he helped her walk. He felt a certain degree of pity for her. _What a life,_ he thought,_ fearful of the things your country holds dear. Fearful of that which she cannot understand. Fearful of one mistake, of failure. What a terrible life—but don't, perhaps, we all live like that sometimes?_

She shied away from every ghost-white figure they passed, and they made no pretense that they were not avoiding her, either. Jaydn saw out of the corner of his eyes a pair of humans, Kuviay and Josef, following them, seperately and from a distance. Josef was accompanied by a Companion, whom Jaydn assumed to be Lika. But the Companion got closer, outdistancing Josef, and he at last recognized it as an unChosen stallion, Kurrem. Jaydn found himself reassuring Cayri, who looked terrified at the approach of the stallion; conversely, she looked even more frightened.

Kurrem continued to approach them, and Cayri's apprehension grew. Jaydn couldn't see the problem—though Kurrem hadn't Chosen, she was the least likely Herald he'd ever known of anyways. But obviously there was some sort of issue here—Jaydn was no Empath, but fear, anger, regret, and foreboding positively emanated from her.

Fear conquered control and as Kurrem reached a mere arm's-length away, Cayri broke free of Jaydn's grip and lunged forward. Her weight fell on her injured ankle and she collapsed to the ground, biting back a scream and tears. Jaydn stood where he was, seemingly frozen.

But Kurrem stepped lightly forward, lowering his equine head to meet Cayri's gaze with his dark sapphire eyes. Eyes of the deepest, mst impenetrable blue. Eyes of everlasting love and patience...

_:Cayri my beloved, thou art my Chosen.:_

Cayri tried to struggle to her feet, but failed and fell again. "No!" she cried, her voice thick with tears. "I will never join the Heralds' ranks!"

Jaydn thought he heard a loud _thunk_ as his jaw hit the ground. _Chosen? Cayri?!_

_:I realize how you feel about Heralds. I understand . There are many things to explain.:_

"Explanations? From a Companion? How could you explain anything to me?" Cayri demanded. Then she paused, registering the look in those dark eyes and the words he had spoken to her. "What did you say you were called again?"

_:Kurrem is the name I go by here.:_

"Kurrem," she muttered, a strange look in her green eyes. Then she stared at him, an unbelieving expression on her face. "It cannot be!" she cried. "I know the Deity's laws! It cannot be!"

Kurrem lowered his head in a Companion nod. _:It is true; you guess correctly.:_

"You're lying," she denied again, bright tears welling fresh in her eyes. "Impostor! How dare you claim that?"

_:How shall I prove it to you?:_ Kurrem's mindvoice was weary. _:You have a daughter, ten years next summer. Calivathi is a beauty already, despite her years. She has her mother's hair, and her fiery spirit. She has her father's eyes. Forever she will bear the undying love of her mother, and the best her father could give her before he was called away. You have a son, born shortly after your husband's death, a month past midwinter. Seven years ago. He never knew his father, but he grew up in the man's image nonetheless. You never told anyone, but aside from the name your husband chose for him, Cenchar, he bears the name Courem.:_

"It—it is impossible," Cayri whispered.

_:There is much to explain.:_

Another look came to Cayri's face, a look of hurt anger and bewilderment. "You _left_ me alone! You _abandoned_ me! Explain that!"

Kurrem heaved a mindspeech sigh. _:You're injured. You need to get to your rooms.:_

Cayri wasn't satisfied with that, but she apparently suspected that explanations wouldn't come except on Kurrem's terms. So she struggled to become upright, and Jaydn was able to catch her this time before she fell again. They set again for the guest complexes; Jaydn saw again the figures of Josef and Kuviay, and sensed their confusion. They wouldn't have been able to hear much of the conversation, and even Jaydn had only heard Cayri's side of it. No doubt they were baffled even more than he. But they reached the apartments without further incident, and he saw them quietly slip in behind. Somehow, Kurrem managed to squeeze inside. It seemed fitting.


	7. The Truth Begins To Emerge

Sorry for taking so long, I think the next chapter will be a little later in coming too, I still need to write it. And after that—I can't say. Read and reviw, please, nothing motivates me more than reviews!

-o-

Jaydn wanted to demand an explanation immediately. He restrained himself from doing for a little while, but as he rummaged around the room looking for something to serve as an ankle bandage, he could help asking, "What was _that_ all about?"

"I—I'm not quite sure," Cayri reponded, removing her white slippers tenderly. She didn't seem to notice Kuviay and Josef in the shadows. Jaydn sent a silent message to them, _:Wait.:_

"He Chose you, didn't he." Jaydn's voice was flat as he knelt to wrap the innjured ankle. He could not restrain the urge to mutter, "Of all people."

"I really don't think he means for me to become a Herald," Cayri said, wiping the tears from her bloodshot eyes.

_:Yes, I do.:_ Kurrem's mindvoice was projected so that all in the room could hear it. Jaydn was startled to recognize it as the voice that had spoken to his earlier, in Court.

Cayri went on as if she hadn't heard. "After all, he knows how I feel about Heralds, as much as anyone else in Valdemar." She directed a glare at the white figure standing awkwardly in the center of the room. "But then, why bother coming here at all?"

"What do you mean?" Jaydn asked.

Cayri paused, then shook her head. "You won't believe me. I'm not so sure I believe it, myself."

"Try me." At the same time, Jaydn cast a Truth Spell.

She sighed. "My husband, Lord Courem, died seven years ago. How old is Kurrem?"

Jaydn paused to recall, not quite seeing where this was going. "Seven years—wait, are you saying that Kurrem here is the Lord Courem?"

"So he says," Cayri told him, tears springing again to her eyes.

_:So am.:_

The Truth Spell showed no lie.

_:I'm sorry.:_ Kurrem's voice, still audible to the others in the room, was regretful. _:I did not mean to leave you, Cayri, seven years ago. I would never leave you willingly. That's why I came back. That, and to show you the truth about those you hate.:_

"What more truth can there be shown?" Cayri said bitterly, but she was interrupted by Kuviay, who couldn't restrain himself any longer.

"Wait, wait, you mean she didn't kill you?" he asked the Companion rather incredulously. Cayri was startled to see him there.

"What are you—"

_:Of course she didn't kill me. She's said that all along. It was midwinter. I wasn't the only one to get sick.:_ Kurrem didn't seem to be surprised by Kuviay's presence, though Cayri was, very obviously so.

"But how did you—" she stuttered.

"You're not the only one who has questions, Cayri," Jaydn told her firmly. "You don't recognize Herald Kuviay, but he knows you very well by your actions. He will stay." He left Josef out of it for now.

She said nothing, wordless. Besides, there were more important things. "How on earth—" she began, but Kurrem anticipated her question.

_:It was difficult to convince the Deity to allow me to return. I do not know how much of mortal time passed before He permitted it, but time is not measured in the realms of Eternity. However, I was only allowed this form, for the purpose of righting the wrongs I helped to cause. The Heralds are not evil, Cayri, and thus I come to you in Companion's form, to Choose thee.:_

Cayri was trembling. "Of all those who know me, you should know my answer best, Courem," she replied angrily. "I will never join the Heralds' ranks."

_:It is, and it always has been, the Companions' choice.:_

Fury flashed in Cayri's emerald eyes. "How _dare_ you say that?" she demanded. "I speak in greater consideration of things besides my own personal dislike of the Heralds. Perhaps you forget: I have a Hold to rule, men to command, _children_ to raise. Children that _you_ left behind. My people need me, as they no longer require the dead." Her words stung Kurrem. There was a long silence.

"M'lady Cayri," Jaydn began softly after a while, not sure how to tread here, "If it's not too rude of me to ask, there's a question that I know a lot of people want the answer to." He took a deep breath. "Cayri—_why_ do you hate Heralds?"

She looked at her feet, gripping her seat tightly. "That's what it all comes down to, doesn't it," she murmured to no one in particular. "That's what this is all about."

Then she turned and met Jaydn's eyes squarely. "I cannot ever trust a Herald, Queen's Own Jaydn," she said, her voice steady.

"But—" he started to say, but she went on.

"I trusted the Heralds once when it meant the world," she told him. "They failed me. They failed me so thoroughly that my life has never been the same since. Heralds are supposed to help people? Well, they dealt nothing but pain that day."

_:Cayri—:_ Kurrem started to say.

"Quiet, Courem," Cayri snapped acidly. "Jaydn asked for the truth, and by the Deity who so easily ignores his people's prayers, he's going to get it. It's time they realized that someone knows the truth."

"Cayri," Jaydn started quietly, "You speak as if you have been on the receiving end of a great wrong done by the Heralds. But that is not what we are like. Something as horrible as you describe would not go unnoted and unpunished within our ranks. Something that awful would not be tolerated by the Companions."

Cayri had a prompt reply, as if she had been expecting this. "I know exactly what went on, Jaydn. The Heralds returned home without a word, acting as the innocents. There was no word, no apology, no repudiation, nothing. Which leaves me to conclude that such things are actively condoned by the Companions' Order.

"You want to know the truth, Jaydn?" she continued. "Very well, you'll get it. But it's not a pleasant tale, and the telling is difficult. It was ten years ago. I was sixteen..."


	8. Cayri's Tale

Sorry for taking so long, homework is death! Next chapter might also be a little long in writing, all apologies and I'll write as fast as I can… Happy Christmas everyone!

-o-

The summer sun was warm, warmer than it had been all year. Cayri had taken advantage of the early summer warmth to go out to gather various plants that the healer-woman had requested. Cayri had always been a lover of the forest, and she disliked being shut up inside, so she had quickly volunteered. She had expected nothing of the day past the ordinary.

Cayri usually stayed on or in sight of the road, but that afternoon she spotted a thick growth of one of the plants she wanted, and wandered off. She knew the way—she'd be able to find her way back. When there was more off the stuff than she would possibly be able to gather, she kept wandering, searching for the best specimens to add to her basket.

That was when she had been surprised.

She had meandered far from the road when she was confronted by a pair of strangers. A pair of surly-looking, armed, male strangers.

Cayri's little gasp as she saw them alerted the two to her presence. The first one, a tall but muscular man bearing a sword almost as tall as she was, noticed her first. He nudged his partner, a rather short though lean man bearing a pair of shortswords.

"Keyras, look," the first one said in a low but smug voice. "What were you just saying about wanting a decent woman? Look what just walked into our hands!"

The second, Keyras, smiled nastily. He looked straight into Cayri's emerald eyes and spoke to her. "Hello, young lady." His voice, though superficially pleasant, held a sly pleasure, and dripped with a snake's venom. He knew, as Cayri could clearly tell, that this was no polite introduction as civilized people made. This was only an indulgence to his whims. Nothing would change. Cayri didn't know what was happening or what would happen, but she knew enough to be very, very scared. But she was frozen with fear. She made no reply.

"No answer?" Keyras said, sounding offended. He strode forward until he was less than an armspan from Cayri. His partner followed, but at a sligh distance. Cayri shrank back, but she could not bring herself to run. "But how else am I to learn the name of the beautiful young lady?" he went on. He looked closely at Cayri's face, then spat into it. She winced back involuntarily, and Keyras, suddenly angered, delivered her a harsh slap. Cayri whimpered pathetically, but he ignored her as he turned to his partner.

"Reshta, do you see who this is?" he asked, fury written in every line of his face. "This is the girl who's supposed to wed Lord Courem—" he spat the name out as if it were poison, "in a few months. The same bastard son of a street rat who denied us any work." The same look of hatred appeared on Reshta's face.

Keyras's expression grew pleased again after a moment of consideration. "What say we pay Courem a little favor here?" he asked, a sick sort of delight in his voice. "Let him know how we feel about being turned down. I'm sure his fiancée will make an excellent messenger, don't you agree?"

He didn't give Reshta a chance to answer as he turned suddenly and hit Cayri full-force in the jaw. She fell with a cry, and Keyras fell on top of her. She tried to block out everything that she experienced then as Keyras, then Reshta proceeded to rape her, but it was almost impossible. Neither man noticed her tears or cared about the bruises and cuts they dealt at the same time. When they had finished, they dragged her to the side of the road where she was not likely to get lost and be unable to find her way home, and left her.

It was bliss, then, to have fallen unconscious at that time. She drifted in and out of nightmares, some involving long-dead childhood fears, but most recollecting the events of a few hours previous. As if drugged, it took her a long time to regain consciousness, and she felt drained, as if all the energy she had once possessed had spilled from her body like blood leaking from a fatal wound. For several minutes after she had come to and recovered what was left of her wits, she had only the strength to lay there and keep breathing. Even tears would not come.

Suddenly she heard the muted clop of hoofbeats, saw for an instant a deep, endless, sapphire eye against a coat of purest frost, then saw another figure, a dark, bronzed young man who peered into the bushes where she lay. He met her eyes for a long moment, and she made the only noise she had the power to, a desperate but pianissimo moan; then he turned away and started to head back to his mount, leaving her, it seemed, to die alone, in agony and shame.

-o-

"I never!" Josef snarled in outrage, revealing his hitherto unseen position in Cayri's room. Cayri seemed shocked to see him there, far more surprised than when Kuviay had revealed his presence.

"You!" she hissed, astonished. "It was you!"

Everyone in the room turned to look at Josef, who still looked enfuriated. "I never did anything like it!" he growled in insistence, aiming his words to Cayri, and only her. "I never saw you. I never saw you," he repeated, enunciating every word carefully. "My Companion never saw you. If we had, we would have helped, I swear it. I looked, you know that. But I never saw you, even when he could see me. I never knew you were truly there."

"How could you not know?" Cayri cried, her eyes glistening as she stood, making sure not to place weight on the injured ankle. "I saw you and looked straight at you! And—" she faltered, clenching her fists tightly and gritting her teeth, appearing as if she were about to give up a long-kept, prized secret. "I—I am a projective Empath, Herald Josef," she declared at last. "That day—when you turned to leave, I—I sent you, and your party, everything I was feeling."

Revelation was clear on Josef's face. "So it was you... I thought—"

"They were marked as _mine_, you fool," Cayri interjected, her voice choked with tears. "They weren't yours, they weren't supposed to be! You could see how everyone else was feeling them, how could you think them yours?" She sank down onto the bed, hot tears once again falling freely. "How could you not have known?"

Kurrem's interjecting mind-voice was emotionless. _:Continue with your tale Cayri.:_

-o-

Somehow, after the Herald left, Cayri mustered the energy to stand, to stagger onto the road and inch along until finally a Watch spotted her. He must have taken her for a vagabond, for his shout was accusing at first until he clambered down from the watchtower and recognized the young Lord's fiancée, the beauty of the Hold and the envy of every young woman. If not for her fiery bright hair, she might not have been recognized at all.

The watchman swore his shock and anger, realizing what must have happened to her. Knowing that Cayri could not make it back to the Hold by herself, he picked her up—she shuddered at his touch—and broke out in a jarring trot, uttering soft profanities with every breath.

He didn't set her down until he'd reached Courem's hall, where he was unerringly at this time of day, and deposited her in Courem's arms. In an undertone he explained what he had guessed happened to Cayri. Courem looked enraged and held Cayri protectively; she was stiff in her betrothed's arms but welcomed his comfort nonetheless. Only her future husband and her only true love could keep her safe. But she had to wonder if her devotion to him, or his to her, had caused this afternoon's events, and she felt a dark cloud of guilt wash over her.

Courem told one of his bodyguards to go fetch the Heralds. "They were on the road today, they might have seen who did this." The man hurried off without a word.

"Who else was on the road?" he asked, his voice kept under tight control.

The watchman had to think for a bit before answering, and even then he hesitated for a long moment. "My lord," he began, "There was no one traveling within Sancta Forest today—"

The Heralds entered the hall with an ominous _boom_ as the doors slammes shut.

"—except the Heralds," the watchman finished.

Courem quickly put together what the watchman was inferring. In truth, it seemed only logical—Cayri shrank away from the two Heralds when they approached.

His gaze fell on Josef. Blood seeped across his Heraldic Whites, fresh blood. Courem lifted a hand sticky with Cayri's own blood where she had received the bite of a dagger. Cayri started to shiver and refused to look in the direction of the Heralds.

Fury spread across Courem's countenance. How _dare_ they? How dare they abuse his beloved and fiance? How dare they act in the name of the Heraldic right and go about acting like that!

"Get out of my Hold!" he roared. The guards made their way to "assist" the Heralds. The two white-clad men fled.


	9. Chapter Nine

Okay… so, some things have happened. Some people recently submitted reviews which pointed out a few of my dumb mistakes… 'pologies, I didn't even think of things like that! So… if you have something to say, feel free to point out anything else dumb. Unfortunately, the stupidity will not be revised out, because a) I'm lazy and b) some things have to happen for the story to go on! Sorry, folks!

EDIT 12/16/04: I'm sorry, but there I can't finish this for a while. Personal issues as well as schoolwork have come up. Thank you for the comments, I'm not sure if I'll ever get to editing this story, but we'll see. Adieu for now.

-o-

Kurrem turned to look sharply at Cayri as she fell silent. _:You didn't tell me the truth. I thought it was the Heralds who had done it to you. But it never had been.:_

Her shoulders drooped and she looked away. "I know. I wanted revenge on those who ignored me. They deserved it." She noticed Josef's sharp look and amended. "Or so I thought at the time."

"So you've hated the Heralds... just for that?" Jaydn asked in amazement, though he was shocked into horror by Cayri's tale as well.

"Isn't that enough?" she shot back.

"But—but—" he stuttered, still trying to grasp. _That_ was why she hated the Heralds? Because she had perceived some evil that never had really occurred?

_:I came back to make amends to the wrongs I had done, Cayri,:_ Kurrem said. _:It;'s time you started righting your own wrongs.:_

Fury blazed again in Cayri's verdant eyes. "I will never become a Herald, Courem. I thought I had made that clear."

"But—" Jaydn started.

"But—" Kuviay began.

_:But—:_ Kurrem echoed. _:But you must, Cayri. It is not a choice given to thee._

"But since you know now that the Heralds were never at fault at that time—" Jaydn started to say.

There was fire in those emerald eyes as she spoke again. "You had better Choose someone else, Courem, or go back to where the dead belong—I know what I have to do, and none of it has time to be a Herald. Whether they're all they're cracked up to be or not." Kurrem's sapphire eyes were bright with shock. "I have a Hold to rule, Courem!" she went on. "I have to govern my people, the people _you_ left behind! I have to command your guards and armsmen! I have _children_ to raise, for the gods' sake! Children who never knew their father, and who could never survive to lose their mother as well! You selfish bastard, how can you make such a demand?" Tears again came to Cayri's eyes. There was a long pause.

"Go back to where the dead belong," she whispered. "Then things will be set aright." It was clear how much the words hurt her to say them, but there was also a steel-strong conviction in them. "Go back, Courem. Let the living continue in their own lives."

If equines had possessed the ability to weep, Kurrem would have; but he had been denied that comfort, and only hung his head. _:I—I'm sorry, Cayri.:_


	10. The End Finally

It was a victory for Jaydn, the next day, when Cayri confronted the Queen and gave her permission, once again, for Heralds to touch foot upon Sancta grounds. She was departing the next day, and were a Herald to accompany her, they would not be retributed; but any who were to follow after she had departed were to wait a month, so that the people might get used to seeing Heralds again. Shaunah was smiling as she suggested that perhaps Josef might be the one to escort Cayri home, and, reluctantly, she accepted the offer. Josef didn't seem _too_ put out.

The night before Cayri was to leave, Jaydn confronted her in the stables. Kurrem's head was in her lap, and he was stretched out across the rest of the large box-stall.

"You still have to become a Herald, you know," he told her flatly, after a chilly but polite greeting. "You _were_ Chosen, after all."

Cayri gently stroked Kurrem's head and for a moment, it was as if she hadn't heard him. Jaydn felt bad for intruding on their private moment, but this was important, after all. But then Kurrem gave a heavy sigh, and Cayri looked up at Jaydn, eyes red and brimming with tears. She gently shook her head.

"Kurrem's gone back home," she whispered as the Companion's eyes slowly began to glaze. "That was where he belonged. He did what he came back to do." She bowed her head, and Jaydn left them alone, surprised to find tears springing to his own eyes.

Josef couldn't help but feel hurt at the reactions of a great many of Sancta's people. Only one of them, a guardsman, actually recognized him, though with a sharp word from Cayri Josef was let well enough alone. Many of the old grandmothers and a few of the younger generation remembered how they had used to treat Heralds, but a very loud minority of the people of Sancta had bristled in their overlord's defense and spat at his feet or in his face. Cayri reproved them with a snap, but they kept on despite, prowling at the edges of the streets like hungry coyotes at the border of a camp. When he was introduced to Cayri's children, they weren't quite sure what to make of him—only Calivathi had ever seen a Herald, and they had never been treated with much more than a grudging respect even then. And young Cenchar, only seven years old, had never seen nor even much heard of Herald, and so left Josef mostly alone, except to ask if the Herald knew how to play stick pile. Cayri forced a smile and told Cenchar that Josef could play later, then she led the Herald up a long set of stairs.

They reached at the top a beautiful, large room floored in gray marble and roofed almost completely in skylights. In the floor was set a huge and incredibly detailed map of Valdemar, and on the walls were hung paintings depicting myriads of old legends.

"This was Courem's room," she said simply. "And his father's, and his father's before that. It will be Cenchar's room eventually." She looked up into the sky, and Josef followed suit and was forced to appreciate the beauty of it.

"I don't really trust you, yet, Josef," she said eventually. "So many years of hating you, it's hard to get over it. And the Heralds. My people will take their time about accepting you. But I could learn to trust you. I could learn to like you." She met his eyes and he could see how earnestly serious she was. "I haven't had real friends in so long, Josef. I need someone."

He strode towards her and touched her face gently. "You're beautiful, did you know that?"

She smiled. "Is flattery usually part of friendship?"

Josef didn't return the smile. "I'm not the type to waste words, Cayri. But you _are_ beautiful. And strong, and not too proud and stubborn to admit you make mistakes." He gently leaned forward to kiss her.

She let him for a moment, then pulled away. "This might create more problems than it solves, Josef."

It was then that he smiled. "It might solve a few, too. Didn't you say your children needed a father?"

"I'm not easy to live with, you know," she warned. "And I told you, it'll take me awhile to get over those years of hatred. But I can try." Josef smiled, and she let herself succumb to his kiss.

"Maybe there was always something meant for you beyond what you already had," Josef murmured. "But we all know that the truth is hard to bear." And then they caught something, a sudden whisper on the wind, and then it was gone past recollection.

_:Don't we all know it.:_


End file.
